


It Just Sucks

by papesdontsellthemselves



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Male Character, trans!race, yeeeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesdontsellthemselves/pseuds/papesdontsellthemselves
Summary: Race ain't doin' hot





	It Just Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> tw: p descriptive dysphoria

Spot entered the apartment, toeing off his shoes mindlessly and shedding his jacket. He hadn’t meant to stay at work so late, but deadlines are deadlines and when you’re a chronic procrastinator, shit tends to pile up. 

His stomach rumbled and he grimaced, crossing to the kitchen to see if there was anything worth eating. Instead, he found his boyfriend, slumped over the kitchen counter, phone in hand. 

He was stationed on his chair in an awkward position, elbows fanning out to the side and left hand resting palm down on the table. He held his phone loosely in his right hand and was bowing his head low, eyes dull as he tapped on his screen. His legs were dangling towards the ground, unmoving, which in and of itself was strange. Race was usually so fidgety, never able to sit still or correctly in chairs.

Something wasn’t right.

“You alright?” Spot asked, trying to keep his tone casual. If he pushed anything, Race would curl further in on himself and he didn’t want that.

Race’s eyes flicked up from his phone momentarily, landing on where Spot was grabbing an apple from their fruit basket. He sighed and averted his gaze to the ceiling.

“Eh,” even his voice sounded dull. It was disconcerting.

Spot cleaned his apple and turned to face Race, leaning his back against the sink, “What’s up?”

Race shrugged, shifting in his seat and somehow looking even more uncomfortable than before.

“Just,” he blew out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand down his face, “Dysphoria and shit.”

Spot grimaced sympathetically, “I’m sorry, is there anything I can do?”

Race kept his hand on his face, rubbing harshly at his eyes- something he did when he was in troubled thought.

He shook his head, “Don’t think so, I mean,” he let out a humorless laugh, “Barely anything I can do.”

“Hey, that’s not true” Spot reasoned, “There’s plenty you can do. I mean, hell, it takes a while, but you got testosterone and that was something?”

Race hesitated for a moment, finally pulling his hand away from his face, “Yes,” he said slowly, “That’s true, but,” he paused, eyes scanning the room as he searched for the right words, “Nothing’s ever gonna be...enough. Like, I can do all this shit, but I’ll never be...exactly who I should be….I’ll never quite look how I wanna look…”

Spot crossed to the counter, reaching out to hold Race’s hand. 

Race shook his head, “No touch, please.”

“No problem,” Spot said, withdrawing his hand, “But, Racer, please just know that you’re so so masculine and you look totally like a boy and-”

Race drew his shoulders up, flinching, “Nnng, stop it.”

Spot closed his mouth, frowning, “Sorry, sorry.”

Race quickly recovered, “No, no, it’s okay! I really appreciate your words, it’s just,” he sucked in a breath, biting his lip, “I don’t really wanna hear it? Like, that’s not the kinda thing you’d say to a cis guy, so like, overcompensation just makes it worse. Besides, it’s not about even completely about looks,” he sighed, “Like, I’m chill with how I look and I know I pass. I know I look like a boy, I know. And I’m grateful! But, my body won’t ever completely be there, not naturally anyway, which sucks and I dunno, I can’t even touch my own skin sometimes. Like my literal skin feels like it’s burning and yeah, I’m just trapped.”

The words were tumbling out of his mouth now and he was powerless to stop them.

“And like, yeah, I can take testosterone and yeah I can get surgeries and yeah there’s a whole bunch of shit I can do it make it better, but it’ll never be perfect. It’s all gonna cost fuck tons and I’m gonna hafta take T for the rest of my life, which sucks, ‘cause I hate needles and real guys don’t have to take stupid fucking shots just to be read as male and it’s all just shit. Why do I needa jump through all these hoops just to be able to look in the mirror and not wanna kill myself. It sucks, it just really, really sucks and I don’t know if I can do this for the rest of my life.” His voice was strained by the time he was finished talking and he swallowed, blinking to the side, “none of this would be a problem if I were just fucking born how I shoulda been.”

Spot was speechless, feeling vaguely out of his depth. He floundered for a moment, realizing belatedly that his own chest felt heavy. He hated seeing Race like this. He hated seeing him hurt so badly.

He startled when Race let out a wet chuckle.

“What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Race shook his head, a self deprecating smile on his face, “Nothing, just,” he huffed again, “I’m sorry, I know it’s hard to respond to this shit. I really appreciate you listening and stuff.”

“Race, you never, ever have to apologize,” Spot said, sincerely, “I’m always here to listen and help however I can,” they were silent for a moment, “I wish I could do more.” he concluded.

Race reached out towards him, cautiously taking his hand, “Thank you,” he said, lifting Spot’s hand and kissing the knuckles softly, “It’s honestly such a breath of air knowing I’m not alone.”

Spot squeezed his hand, “Of course you aren’t alone and I’m sorry that this is the shit you’ve been dumped with, but I’ll be with you through every step of your journey.”

Race smiled, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Spot said, “Now, how’s about we get some thai and go watch stupid movies or whatever you wanna do.”

Race looked relieved, “Yeah, thank god,” he breathed, “that sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, chiefs  
> feedback is always appreciated


End file.
